Latest news with #TerryPratchett
The Spinoff
21-07-2025
- Politics
- The Spinoff
Windbag: The government's misleading case for rates caps
Blaming colourful toilets for council rates rises is like saying millennials can't afford a house because of avocado toast. In Men At Arms by Terry Pratchett, the 15th book in the Discworld series, Captain Samuel Vines waxed lyrical about the cost of boots: 'A man who could afford 50 dollars had a pair of boots that'd still be keeping his feet dry in 10 years' time, while the poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent 100 dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.' That quote became the inspiration for the boots theory, an economic theory that explains why it's so expensive to be poor. Buying lower-quality products that wear out sooner is an obvious example, but the cost of poverty hits in many more ways. If you can't afford to go to the dentist, the doctor or the mechanic, that short-term saving comes back to bite you with a big, scary bill later on. The cost of poverty traps people in its downward spiral. Sanctimonious rich people love to lecture the poor about how they simply need to stick to a budget. But it's not the wealthy person's superior budgeting skills that keeps them out of the death spiral – it's the ability to go over the budget when needed. If an unexpected bill arises, they have the flexibility to pay it, even if it means dipping into their savings. To the poor person, their budget isn't merely a target; it's a hard cap, with devastating consequences if they breach it. In the ongoing war between councils and the Beehive, government ministers are the wealthy elite telling poor councils they just need to budget better. Central government has way more money and flexibility than local government. Rates account for only 7% of the total tax take in New Zealand, and yet, with that small slice, councils are expected to build and maintain some of the most essential aspects of our lives: roads, pipes, public transport and community facilities. Local government minister Simon Watts says he is considering a law change to cap how much councils can increase rates by each year. (Act and NZ First have raised doubts about the plan, so it's unclear how far it will go.) The political appeal of this idea is obvious. There is a lot of anger nationwide about rates increases. At a time when the household cost of living is high, it can feel unfair for local councils to continue jacking rates up. The government knows this, which is why it has been so happy to abandon its talk of localism and instead use councils as its punching bag. But Watts is making the critical error of mistaking good politics for good policy. Council budgets need some flexibility for unforeseen circumstances, like when a major pipe collapses, or a library turns out to be a deathtrap, or you face a period of expected cost increases. Putting a hard cap on rates will inevitably mean that important maintenance is deferred, delayed or ignored. According to the boots theory, maintenance will end up costing more in the future. We are already seeing the consequences of this in the water network, where councils of the 80s, 90s and 2000s cheaped out on pipe renewals to keep rates artificially low. The bill has come due for the ratepayers of today. Economist Craig Renney of the NZCTU has written a good analysis of how rate-capping policies have affected councils in the UK and Australia. In the UK, 12 local councils have declared bankruptcy since 2018, including Birmingham City Council, Europe's largest local authority. In New South Wales, researchers found rates capping policies led to 'worse revenue effort equity, greater debt per capita, lower levels of infrastructure renewal and exhibited much less operational efficiency'. 'Fundamentally, local government doesn't have the financial tools it needs to do the job that it has been given. Capping rates doesn't help that – it makes it worse. The UK and Australia both show the negative consequences of that policy,' Renney writes. Proponents of rates caps argue that councils are essentially irresponsible teenagers who will keep blowing money on stupid shit unless big daddy Watts limits their pocket money. This is the narrative being pushed by the Taxpayers' Union, which is running a public campaign for the policy. The Taxpayers' Union's team of researchers are excellent at digging up and highlighting examples of outrage-generating spending. The government obviously pays close attention, because you'll often hear senior ministers repeating the same talking points to the media. Some of this work is incredibly valuable. Local government should be held to account for how it spends ratepayers' money. The problem is that the Taxpayers' Union has been so successful that it has distorted people's views of what councils actually do – voters think rates rises are primarily because of rainbow crossings and karakia rather than pipes and potholes. This misconception seems to have gone all the way to the top of the Beehive. Prime minister Chris Luxon has repeatedly taken aim at Wellington City Council for spending that isn't focused on the 'basics'. Last week, he highlighted the new $2.3m Inglewood Place public toilets, the $2.3m Molesworth St cycleway (only 10% of which was paid for by the council), and Tākina convention centre, which fell $1.2m short of targeted revenue last year. For a prime minister who sees himself as a big-picture thinker, it's kind of embarrassing that Luxon gets distracted by, as he would put it, the ' small rocks '. Wellington City Council has planned a budget of $4.9 billion in capital spending and $11.6 billion in operating spending for the next decade. Every little bit counts, but a marginally cheaper public toilet isn't going to move the needle. Pretending colourful toilets are the problem with council finances is like telling millennials they could afford a house if they gave up avocado toast. If Wellington City Council were uniquely bad at wasting money, it would have uniquely bad rates increases. But it doesn't. Wellington doesn't even make the top 10 for councils with the highest rates increases this year (though it is seventh over the last three years cumulatively). The Taxpayers' Union's Sam Warren, writing in The Post, said wasteful spending caused rates to rise higher than inflation: 'Between 2022 and 2025, average council rates have surged by more than 34%, compared to inflation at 13.7% over the same period.' That analysis misses an important point. The usual inflation measure comes from the CPI basket of goods, a list of 598 consumer products: spinach, pillows, hair products, streaming TV services and so on. But councils don't spend money on the same things households do. The vast majority of any council's capital spending is on construction to build and maintain infrastructure. And construction is really expensive. According to BNZ chief economist Mike Jones, 'Construction cost inflation soared 35-40% from 2020 to 2023. It's since flattened off, but the overall level of costs is still elevated.' To its credit, the government has taken several steps to address this: reforms in the construction sector, new financial arrangements for water entities, and a proposal to give councils a share of GST on new residential builds. It would just be nice if ministers were more honest about the problems at hand. Councils are trying to make up for decades of underspending on core infrastructure at the same time that construction costs are at their most expensive. That's the real reason rates are so high.
Irish Examiner
21-07-2025
- Politics
- Irish Examiner
Irish Examiner view: Poverty is driving a wedge between generations in Ireland
We may all know it on some instinctual level, but ombudsman for children Niall Muldoon stating aloud that the children from Ireland's wealthier families are 'sailing away from the have-nots' is sobering nonetheless. This is a country which has been running budget surpluses and which has been among the world's wealthier nations since the Celtic Tiger era. And yet inequality persists, and is widening. We have 5,000 homeless children in a country which spends €350m a year housing homeless families in Dublin alone. Imagine that money being used to eradicate homelessness by purchasing or building homes. The cost of living crisis — and it is a crisis for many — is only exacerbating what was already a chasm between the haves and have-nots. Such a high number of families are living from pay packet to pay packet, even in cases where the pay should hypothetically see them in good stead, that anybody who can hold on to a few extra euro at the end of the month ends up slowly pulling away from those who cannot. There is also the phenomenon that just subsisting can prolong and deepen poverty. It's perhaps best, and most irreverently, known as boots theory, from a Terry Pratchett novel where the example given was that if you could afford a very good pair of boots, they would last for years, whereas if you can only afford cheaper ones that need to be replaced more quickly, you'll end up spending more over the same time period. Academic studies have identified similar circumstances where people have to rent instead of buy houses, for example; and the cost of rent is now astronomical in this country. Worryingly, while stress has long been known to have detrimental effects on health, the Patrick MacGill Summer School in Glenties, Co Donegal, was told last week that poverty is actually making people age faster. Rose Anne Kenny of TCD said: 'The children experiencing depression at home, alcohol, drugs, homelessness, uncertainty, et cetera – those children age faster.' Most of these problems are within our ability to repair, or at the very least mitigate. We just never seem to be able to invest the right amounts in the right projects at the right time. Perhaps we need to start thinking beyond the years right in front of us. Future generations Calls for the Government to appoint a 'commissioner for future generations' are not without merit, even that sort of role might seem more long term than we're used to. Still, its supporters would say that's part of the point. Much social and economic policy is based on the short term — the next election, the next budget, or what have you. As a nation and a planet, we are now faced with sustained challenges that will continue to plague us long after our grandchildren have grown to maturity. Even apart from climate collapse or the seemingly ever-present threat of global war and deep recession, the looming increase in pension claimants is not going to go away, nor are the demands for services that go with a population that is both growing and ageing. As Sarah Carr of the Goal NextGen youth programme said: 'Today's policies shape tomorrow's realities, from housing and healthcare to climate and economy. We are the last generation with a real chance to get this right and a commissioner for future generations can pave the way for action.' As such, a move to a more holistic, long-term decision-making approach can only be a good thing, and a cultural shake-up that we could benefit from. What's your view on this issue? You can tell us here New crisis in Afghanistan Between the genocide in Gaza and ongoing illegal invasion of Ukraine, it can be easy to overlook the brutal totalitarian regime of the Taliban in Afghanistan. The more than 1.4m people fleeing or being expelled from Iran back to that country don't have the luxury of forgetting, however. Some 500,000 have been caught up in a crackdown following the Israel-Iran exchange of missiles recently, but the process had begun before that as Iran claims it no longer has the resources to support them. Now they are being accused of spying for Israel. Iran claims as many as 6m Afghans live in the country, while 20m people in Afghanistan rely on humanitarian aid to survive. While the deportees include people who have worked in Iran for decades as well as recent arrivals, the most ominous aspect is the number of women being sent back to a country that grows increasingly hostile toward women on a daily basis. The deportees are being left at border crossings — but because women cannot travel without a male escort in Afghanistan, some women and their children — including babies — are being left with little more than the desperate hope that some relative in the country's heartlands will take them in. Another 1m at least have been expelled from Pakistan. There is a very real danger that these already impoverished deportees will end up at the heart of a new humanitarian crisis. Given the Taliban's horrific human rights record, one wonders who might come to their aid. Read More Irish Examiner view: All set for a mesmerising 48 hours of sport
Times
02-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
I'm a Terry Pratchett superfan — here's why you should be too
I n elite literary circles, comic writers are viewed as unserious creatures, worthy of patronising smiles and scant praise. Writers of genre fiction, meanwhile, are truly beneath contempt. And if you combine the two and become a comic writer of fantasy books? You might as well walk into the book club with your pants around your ankles and a nuclear waste sign tattooed on your forehead. Nobody knew this better than Terry Pratchett, who died ten years ago. He was the creator of the Discworld series of comic fantasy books, which were populated by dwarfs and elves. He was also the most commercially successful author of the 1990s, which was greeted with confusion and disdain by arty types. 'A somewhat galling fact is that Pratchett is Britain's bestselling living novelist,' City Life magazine wailed in 2001. 'His fans can be found down at heavy metal HQ, practising sexual inadequacy and ram raiding,' the NME declared.
New York Times
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
The Essential Terry Pratchett
Terry Pratchett spent more than half of his six decades on Earth writing Discworld, a sprawling fantasy series where, among many other threads, Death begins as a villain, drifts into heroism and ends as something very near to a friend. This is not because Pratchett was insensitive to the tragedy of death. He coined the term 'Embuggerance' to describe his own diagnosis of posterior cortical atrophy (a rare form of Alzheimer's), and lobbied for death with dignity as a way of wresting control from the macabre final phases of terminal illness. But Pratchett's great strength as a writer — and as a human being — was empathy. More than his humor, although he's hands down one of the funniest authors to ever do it, empathy is the beating heart of his work: Even when depicting the grim and inescapable terminus of all life, he couldn't resist making Death feel human. To fans of his books, the striking thing about Pratchett's biography is how familiar so much of it sounds. The only child of an engineer and a secretary, he grew up in a rural English village digging holes for the privy (Granny Weatherwax!) and walking above ancient fossils in the chalk (Tiffany Aching!). He met and married a girl a few rungs up the social ladder (Vimes and Lady Sybil!) when he was just 20, and thereafter became 'the most married person you were ever likely to meet,' according to his biographer and longtime assistant, Rob Wilkins. He went to sci-fi conventions in the 1960s, dabbled in early computers and accumulated a gaggle of the kind of mismatched jobs many writers inhabit before they get down to novelisting full time: newspaperman, interviewer, press agent for a nuclear power station. A series of utterly ordinary events — except that they happened to a mind we know dreamed up extraordinary things. A few precociously early short-story sales eventually gave way to larger works, including the first Discworld books, and some enthusiastic press. Then, around the time the fourth Discworld novel, 'Mort,' was released in 1987 — after years of writing, multiple publishers and a bit of old-fashioned, right-time-right-place luck with a BBC radio serialization of the first two books — something clicked. Discworld took off, and pretty much never stopped: The series eventually ran to 41 full-length novels, plus an assortment of companion volumes, graphic novels, film and television adaptations, and the children's book 'Where's My Cow?' And while Pratchett occasionally tried on other worlds and genres — plays, alternate history, dialogue for a fan-made 'Elder Scrolls: Oblivion' mod — it's this fantasy realm that remains his most enduring masterpiece. Discworld is a flat planet that sits on top of four elephants on top of a tortoise. There are gods and tentacular temples; a teeming, grimy city called Ankh-Morpork; and arcane rules governing magic. At first, the series is a slapstick adventure story about a cowardly wizard, in which Pratchett takes well-aimed shots at J.R.R. Tolkien, H.P. Lovecraft and Anne McCaffrey (to name just a few). But around Book 3 he starts opening things up. This is where the fan-made flow charts come in, explaining which books to read for the witches arc, which ones are the Sam Vimes novels, which ones follow Death and his granddaughter, Susan Sto Helit. Book by book, Discworld expands and deepens, pulling in elements from our world that Pratchett tempers in surprising ways: Shakespeare, vampires, police procedurals, musicals, Australia, high finance. Then come even bigger ideas: war, revolution, justice. By the time we reach Book 29, 'Night Watch,' Pratchett is writing comic fantasy the way Martin Luther offered theological critique to the Catholic Church: sharp and tough as nails, with a hammering moral force. Not all the jokes have aged well, and the final books are a bit haunting — more sketches than full-color paintings, as the progression of Pratchett's disease took its cruel toll. But the overwhelming sense, even in the posthumously published 'The Shepherd's Crown,' is of a man rushing to tell us something vital — about ourselves, about one another. Discworld is not about how to be good, but about how to do good, and why even the smallest acts of kindness matter. Empathy — like humor or creativity or hope — is a muscle. You don't train for a marathon by running around the world: You start with small distances and work your way up. It's cringe, as the kids say, to talk seriously about funny books. It makes me the wettest of blankets to say we're starving right now for virtue, for everyday goodness, for people who care about one another. But 10 years after Pratchett's passing — announced in the all-caps voice of Death himself — his clarity of vision may be what our world needs most: Vimes observing, 'As soon as you saw people as things to be measured, they didn't measure up.' Granny Weatherwax reminding us, 'Sin, young man, is when you treat people as things.' And Death, of course, having the last word: 'THERE IS NO HOPE BUT US. THERE IS NO MERCY BUT US. THERE IS NO JUSTICE. THERE IS JUST US.' Where do I start? If you find the flow charts daunting — and who could blame you? — 'Monstrous Regiment' (2003) is your best bet for a stand-alone, as it happens far away from Ankh-Morpork or the witchy Ramtop Mountains. We meet young Polly Perks, from a small country forever at war with its neighbors, as she cuts her hair, dons trousers and joins the army in hopes of finding her missing brother. The troops are untrained, the fields are barren, and the government insists it's treasonous to even ask which side is winning the war. The only authority is Sgt. Jack Jackrum, a jovial nightmare in a coat 'the red of dying stars and dying soldiers' — as if Falstaff were reborn as a god of war. Polly soon discovers she's not the only soldier in disguise. Everyone has their reasons for fighting, and they're being tracked by more enemies than they know. It's trench humor at its blackest, and burns like a wound being cauterized. Take me directly to his greatest hit 'Night Watch' (2002) is not only a great Discworld novel: It is one of the greatest fantasy novels of all time. Sam Vimes, a former drunken street cop who has become a sober and reluctant duke, is the commander of the City Watch — until he gets caught in a lightning storm and finds himself magically transported 30 years back in time. He quickly assumes the identity of a police sergeant in charge of training and mentoring his 16-year-old self, on the eve of a famous late-May rebellion that Vimes knows the sergeant does not survive. (Astute readers will have noted the glorious, and specific, publication date of this article: not accidental.) This salty, poignant and brilliantly strange novel is 'Terminator 2' meets 'Les Misérables.' It also retcons a lot of familiar Discworld characters — Lord Vetinari, Sergeant Colon, Nobby Nobbs, the zombie Reg Shoe — so before you pick it up, you should read 'Guards! Guards!' (1989) to learn your way around the city and its inhabitants. Vimes's arc from a hopeless drunk to an honorable civic leader is one of Pratchett's greatest literary triumphs, turning his gift for reinvention onto one of his own comic creations and effecting something remarkably tender in the process. I like sexy, sinister elves and women saving the day The author's note for 'Lords and Ladies' (1992), Pratchett's riff on 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' warns that this is the first Discworld book to build episodically on what came before … and then immediately gives you all the important context you need, in brief, with no homework necessary. A coven of witches return to their small mountain kingdom, Lancre, to discover that some glamorous elves with a taste for magical manipulation have invaded. But the trio — the dreamy Magrat Garlick, the meddling Nanny Ogg and the formidable Granny Weatherwax (maiden, mother and … the other one) — are not going down without a fight. Magrat is also shocked to learn that, in her absence, Lancre's king has been busy planning their wedding. Pratchett never wrote what I would call a romance, but this is one of his best romance-adjacent works (2001's 'Thief of Time' is another). Enough fantasy. Got any science fiction? Although I am fond of some of Pratchett's early science fiction, such as 'Only You Can Save Mankind' (1992), his best sci-fi is a Discworld book, where the science is garbed in fantasy cosplay. 'Going Postal' (2004) is the story of a con artist, Moist von Lipwig, who is reluctantly redeemed as he takes charge of the failing Ankh-Morpork postal service. The book is unusual for Pratchett in that most of the plot revolves not around magic, or even around magically inflected technology (as in 1990's 'Moving Pictures' or 2000's 'The Truth'), but around ordinary mechanical innovation. Moist and the mail must compete with the clacks network — a code-based semaphore communication system — and the clash upends social patterns and leads to political upheaval in ways fans of hard sci-fi will find gratifying. There are also plenty of references and fun Easter eggs for old-school coding nerds. I'm more of a horror reader 'Carpe Jugulum' (1998) nails the true creep factor of the vampire genre. It's not the blood-drinking: It's the way they mess with your mind. Another Lancre witches book, and one of the best, this story begins with King Verence (now married to Magrat) accidentally inviting a family of modern-sounding vampires to his daughter's christening. Once there, the hypnotically powered creatures are quick to insist they should be running things. Our witches have to fight them off while figuring out their own changing roles: The newcomer Agnes Nitt assumes the position of the maiden, Queen Magrat is now the mother, and Nanny Ogg is being pushed unwillingly into Granny Weatherwax's spot as Granny herself begins to physically fade. Luckily, witches are most dangerous when cornered, and Granny has at least one more trick up her sleeve. Got any deep cuts? 'A Blink of the Screen: Collected Shorter Fiction' (2012) is full of bite-size gems from Pratchett's prodigious, sometimes meandering career. Longtime readers will find plenty to enjoy here, including glimmerings of future stories and several unlikely surprises (one story includes a particularly delightful illustration of a 'large, fat, ugly brown bird with big eyebrows'). The illuminating and conversational introductions to each piece — where Pratchett adds context, memories and, sometimes, self-deprecating disclaimers ('I was playing with the words to see what happens. It's a thing that authors do sometimes.') — make it feel as though the writer is right there with you, reading over your shoulder. Time was I would have included 'Good Omens' (1990) on this list: It's an excellent first approach to Pratchett's work and a personal favorite. But considering the sexual assault allegations against Pratchett's co-author, Neil Gaiman, I'm not interested in sending new fans down that road. (Gaiman has denied the allegations.) Instead, I'd recommend one of the many angel-and-demon stories haloed by its influence, such as 'When the Angels Left the Old Country,' by Sacha Lamb; 'The City in Glass,' by Nghi Vo; or the whimsical 'Small Miracles,' by Olivia Atwater.
Sharjah 24
04-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Sharjah 24
Children join author CG Salamander on mythical quest at SCRF
'My biggest advice to upcoming authors is to have fun with whatever you like; make sure you write about what you love and not what the market expects,' said the Netherlands-based author, editor and journalist, whose bestsellers include the comic series Maithili and the Minotaur. He gave children from various UAE schools an overview of mythical creatures from various countries before challenging them to come up with a story based on a mythical character. To their credit, the children in the 10-14 age group seemed well-versed with mythical characters like minotaur from Greek mythology or an Indian version of Boogeyman. He then sent them on a mythical quest where they had to create 'a hero, their quest and purpose, and their interaction with the monster' and present it as a story. The engineer-turned-author from the Indian city of Chennai -- whose real name is Andrew Prashanth – confessed he liked the freedom of being able to write and he had taken up writing for a living in 2012 at the age of 21. His first published comic was a 'matchbox' one that had just five lines. 'My first book, Frank Goes to the Market, gave a magical and lovely feeling. It is about a child who gets lost in a crowded market and has to find his way back to his mother. It was inspired by my visit to an old colonial market in Chennai while moonlighting as a tour guide,' he replied to a student's query. One from the Maithili series was also based on an incident from his childhood, when he and his cousins got lost in a forest for 10 hours, he revealed. The young author and commissioning editor told them he was influenced by Manga comics and the Indian epic Mahabharata while his favourite books as a kid included the Tintin and Asterix comics as well as Terry Pratchett novels. He credited his co-creator and illustrator Rajiv Eipe for the success and continuity of his characters and plot. 'A good story is something you take a lot of time with. The biggest takeaway is to spend a lot of time editing your story and breaking it down,' he pointed out, and mentioned the intense research that went into writing his book on 100 Indian mythical creatures From Makaras to Manticores. According to him, 'a story can be made interesting by using subversion -- when you know something is certain, you make the opposite happen.' Salamander stated that 95% of his books don't have a structure beforehand. 'I never have an outline when I write a story. It's a lot more fun for the writer and the reader when you don't have one,' he observed. Taking place until May 4 at Expo Centre Sharjah, the 16th edition of SCRF promises an immersive experience under the theme 'Dive into Books'. Organised by the Sharjah Book Authority (SBA), this year's agenda features 133 guests from 70 countries, and 122 Arab and international publishing houses from 22 nations.
